


Lost Sons

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: Jon was gone, but much to his surprise, Clark wasn’t the only one who was going to look for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So…I haven’t actually read Superman 18 yet haha. So obviously things - like the house still being there I guess - aren’t canon, but yanno. Whatever. Jon and Damian can be besties or shippy, whatever you want to interpret it as. It was besties in my brain but, shit happens. They probs find Jon and Bruce sneaks a dad hug in there for Damian, and Damian relishes it completely. Happy babies.

He was panicked and stressed and – yes, he could admit – not thinking straight.

But his son was missing, his son was _taken_ , so if anyone blamed him, they were goddamn hypocrites.

So when he heard that floorboard in Jon’s room squeak – of course he ran there. Of course he used every ounce of strength and speed he had to sprint up to that bedroom and throw the door open.

Because they were Supers, they were lucky. They were _good_ , they didn’t deserve these kinds of things. Maybe the universe figured that out too, so cut him a break. Returned Jon herself, back to where he belonged.

With him. With Lois. With his parents and his family, where he was safe and protected and _loved_ and –

“Jon?!” He roared, over the shattering of the door. He’d thrown it open too hard, but that was fine. He was handy, he’d just make a new door. A fucking door meant nothing if his son was standing behind it. “Are you o-”

But he stopped. He froze, and all hope drained out of him in an instant.

Because the boy standing there wasn’t Jon. He was too short. Too caped.

Jon’s – and he could hardly admit it, but he _was_ – best friend, Damian.

Damian didn’t seem surprised by the door. Didn’t turn when it smashed open. Continued looking seriously around the room.

…Looking for evidence, Clark realized.

“Da…” Clark breathed. “Damian?”

“…I’ll find him.” Damian declared, spinning around to face him. His face was tight and pained – and if Clark were thinking straight, he’d have seen the fear and despair there too – and determined. “I swear to you, Superman. I _will_ find Jon.”

Clark blinked, and suddenly his panic doubled.

“Damian, no.” He murmured, even as Damian spun back towards the room, looking for more clues. For _any_ clues. “Damian, you can’t-”

“I never gave up on Grayson. I haven’t given up on Drake.” Damian listed, picking things up and slamming them back down, his desperation evident. “I will not give up on Jonathan either. Not _ever_.”

“But…Damian…” And his brain couldn’t keep up. His world was in shambles, Damian was moving too fast, his mouth felt like mud.

 _We’ve already lost you once,_ he wanted to say. _Bruce has already lost you once, we can’t risk losing you again. We can’t risk having two fathers without his son, not at the same time. Jon wouldn’t want this. You’re his best friend, he wouldn’t want you in danger just for him._

“I’m not finding anything here.” Damian decided, after a moment. “There’s no readings of anything either. Those flames left no residue.”

“How did you…?”

“Father worries about you and Ms. Lane.” Damian shrugged, gliding towards the still-open window he had clearly climbed in from. “He set up cameras a long time ago. Nowhere private, though. Family room, kitchen, yard. Places like that. No bathrooms or bedrooms.”

He hopped onto the ledge easily, and twisted on his toes to look back.

“I’ll check in with anything I find.” Damian promised. “I’ll bring him home, Clark. I swear on my _life_.”

And he was gone before Clark could say anything else, before he could beg Damian not to – after all, what if whatever took Jon was after the children of League members? He could be next!

He rushed to the window after him, the child’s name on his tongue, but then was forced to stop again.

The Batmobile sat out there, with Batman leaning against its hood, waiting.

…When did that get here? Clark didn’t hear it arrive.

“Bruce?!” Was all he could manage. Bruce, who was watching Damian stalk across the yard, glanced up.

Clark didn’t say anything, though. Pushed away from the window and went tearing back through the house. Down the stairs, through the family room, onto the porch and down to the yard.

Damian had just closed the car door behind him as Clark rushed across the grass.

“Bruce, he can’t.” Clark practically begged. “He can’t put himself in danger for this.”

“Once he sets his mind to something, you can’t convince him otherwise. I’ve learned that the hard way before, I won’t repeat the mistake.” Bruce tried. He sighed immediately after, though. “Despite his… _prickly_ exterior, Jon is one of the few he truly cares about. I couldn’t get him off this path even if I _tried_. If he thought I was against him, he’d just run off on his own. So…well, you know what they say – if you can’t beat them, join them.”

Clark glanced back to the car. Damian was on the Batmobile’s computer already, eyes focused as he typed away.

“…Hang on to him, Bruce.” Clark whispered sadly, looking back. He reached out without thought, clinging to the slack of the cape. “Don’t let that boy go. Don’t let him out of your sight. You hang on to him and you…and you _love_ him. Hold him and love him and _never_ let him go.” Clark’s hand slid away, and he looked down, trying to hide the sudden wave of tears threatening to spill. “…Please, don’t let him go…”

Bruce paused a moment, then put a hand on Clark’s shoulder.

“My son came back. Damian – and Jason and Dick – died, and I got them back.” Bruce reiterated softly. “Jon isn’t dead. He was _taken_ , but all the same, Clark. My son came back. We’ll get yours back too.”

Clark didn’t mention how they hadn’t gotten Tim back. How he hadn’t gotten Conner back either.

“Thank you.” He wheezed instead. “Thank you so much, Bruce.”

“Focus on Lois. On keeping her safe.” Bruce said with a nod. “Damian and I will call if we get anything.”

Clark nodded too, and Bruce dropped his hand, turning and walking towards his car.

“…Bruce?”

Bruce stopped at the door.

“Don’t let him go.” Clark repeated. “No matter what. Not even for Jon.”

Bruce blinked, but didn’t respond. Just opened the door and dropped into the car. He stopped there, though. Clark could see through the windshield. Hesitated putting the Batmobile in gear to just…stare at Damian. After a second, Damian glanced up, barked a sharp, but nervous, “What?”

Bruce gave his son a tight smile and fondly ruffled his hair. And it was quiet. A whisper, probably so Damian wouldn’t hear, but Bruce knew Clark would.

“I won’t, Clark.”

And then Clark was left to watch, as Bruce threw the Batmobile in reverse, and Batman and Robin took off into the night in search of Superboy.

He sighed as he looked into the stars, listened to that ferocious engine roar down the road.

“We’re coming, Jon.”

And in his mind he could still hear it. Jon’s desperate voice. Begging, pleading, crying. _Don’t let me go, Dad. Please, Mom, Dad, don’t let me go…_

He balled his hands into fists.

“We’re coming to get you.”


End file.
